Welcome To The Jungle (Burn it to the ground.)

David returns at the exact point and time he told Jackson he'd be arriving. That last mission to Atlantis had some unexpected theater that had to be done. He hoped that Kaldur was well. Pride swelled in his chest at how well the boy acted out his disdain for him. It's rather a pity he didn't encourage his boys to take up acting. They would've done very well in that. Still, he had to review the surveillance cameras he'd set up in and around their home in Gotham and the shop. He's surprised and proud again of Jackson for taking some initiative while he was away. Then again, he'd known about Jackson's little escapades for some time.

Having seen him use an old suit and modified it was gratifying.

His boys were growing into capable strong young men. It was all he ever wanted. Well, that and for one of them to take up the mantle of Black Manta. That'd be a nice dream. Perhaps...

"Jackie?" He called and dumped the duffel bag by the lounge chair, "You here?"

"Yeah, I'm in the kitchen."

The scent of meat frying was all he could smell. It made his stomach groan in response, making him realize he was actually hungry. He headed that way, stopping at the entrance to watch his son flip a patty with expert ease.

"How was your mission?" Jackson asked, moving on to cut up some tomatoes. He felt like bacon cheese burgers was a great idea. "Did you see anything cool?"

"As a matter of fact I did- also your brother says hi." David leaned against the wall, his arms folded for a moment. "I brought some souvenirs. " He waited a beat then added, "And if you'd like, I have an assignment for you."

"Really?" Jackson inwardly cringed that his voice squeaked then. Ugh, puberty. Still, he cleared his voice, thankfully it sounded normal again. "I mean, a real mission?"

"It's a security job." David confirmed finally getting around to helping the boy out, "I've seen the costume. So, mind telling me what you've been up to while I was gone?"

"Ah..haha..that." Jackson shifted from one side to the next, "I- look, I know it's stupid and wrong, but I couldn't sit around while you and Kal risked your necks. I wanted to do something too- to help."

"And you did that how?"

Not looking at his dad, Jackson kept his eyes on thinly slicing some onions, " I heard through some of your old connections that someone needed bodies for a guard detailed and I thought I'd graduate from small time things to something a bit..more." He set the blade down and sighed softly, "It wasn't bad. I think I even made a friend."

"That's good, son." David considered this, "Does he know your real identity?"

"No."

"Good. Well, part of the game is making and establishing contacts and connections. Networking means a lot in this world and you got to secure that to have a secure line of work." He smiled a bit then, "I'm glad you've started doing that. I'm proud of you, son."

A bubble of happiness sprung up within Jackson at that as his dad ruffled his hair and kissed his temple. "Lets eat and I'll tell you how I ran into your brother."

"This has got to be good." Jackson grinned up at him. "Is he ok, though? The last time I saw him, he seemed to be..kinda stressed out."

"What he's doing is stressful work." David assembled the burgers while Jackson grabbed the glasses. "Soon, though, he'll be able to set the burden aside. It'll just take a little longer than expected."

With a nod, Jackson filled the glasses and set the table. They would be able to talk about this in more details soon. He was just glad that his Dad was back and well.

Jackson exhaled as he pulled on a more proper mask his Dad had rigged before his mission of escorting yet another cargo of something to the Northern India. He's not sure what's in it but his Dad assured him he didn't need to know.

"Knowing less in some cases is safer than knowing everything." he'd said to him. "Now hand me that mask."

Now, Jackson's mask was equipped with night vision, heat vision, among other ways to communicate with others through it. It had a hood that went with it and hid his hair better. Even the bottom part was covered more and resembled a fanged skull than anything else. It was perfect.

Now, he meets up with Icicle jr. again. Whatever nervous ball of fear that he had within him, lessened at the sight of a familiar face.

"Oh, hey Shango." Icicle Jr. grinned. "Glad to see you're on this one too."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." He smiled back, "So who's all here? I don't recognize some- is that Poison Ivy?" His eyes nearly bugged out of his mask, " I didn't think she'd be involved."

"yeah, she does this from time to time." Icicle Jr. watched as she caressed some plant. "Whatever you do, don't piss her off and seriously, do not touch the plants."

He looked over at his friend, frowning in confusion, "Why's that?"

"Let's just say that not a lot of people survive that."

"Oh..."

"Listen up!" The leader of this particular group was some woman that was tattooed and very muscular. She looked like the definition of 'if looks could kill'. "We're guarding this shipment and heading into the Jungle to another top secret location. These forests harbor militia groups and the like. So, you know the drill. Keep the cargo safe and you'll get rich."

The group breaks up, but Jackson's eyes are already a little wide behind the mask. Different from the other times, this held even more danger than before. He felt that nervous knot settle into his stomach as he moved along with them to the truck. He held a position there, able to see further and better than most. It still doesn't feel real to him.

"Hey, Shango!" Icicle jr. showed up, jogging beside the trunk then hopped into the back. "Just like the desert, isn't it- but you know, with plants."

"The desert didn't have hidden militia groups." He didn't keep his eyes off the jungle terrain even as the truck ran over some roots. He could hear Ivy in the distance, threatening the driver of her truck about it.

"Psh, don't worry about them." Icicle jr. grinned a little and waved a hand, "They're not so bad, once you figure out that they don't have the power to do real damage."

"So, you say."

"Ok, how about we talk about something else?"

He turned his head to look at his blue companion, "Like what?"

"Like, what movies are we going to see next?"

Mulling it over, Jackson suggested a popular thriller that was coming out soon. "I heard the graphics should be great. They went all out with the special effects and the make up this time."

"Really?"

"Yeah. And-" Suddenly, to the left of the car in front of the truck, an explosion rocked the jungle. "Holy-!" Jackson felt his blood rush thorough him. His awareness spreading but his breathing quickened faster than usual. He needed to calm down. He's trained for this.

But all the training in the world didn't prepare him for the actual battle. Unlike with a straight out gang fight or even the sparring mats with his brother, these guys had an advantage over all them. The Jungle was their home, and it was their turf. All he and the others could do was defend the trucks.

"Look alive, fellas!" Devastation called out as she jumped from her own lead truck and rushed two that were firing at her, "It's time to dance!"

Icicle Jr. climbed up to the side of the truck, holding on, "Watch my back, Shango!"

"A-Alright!" Jackson took a breathe and calmed himself, before switching to infrared to scan the vegetation. He searched until he found one guy taking aim at them, "There! Aim five degrees down!"

"Gotcha'!" Icicle jr. called back and shot off a beam of ice, freezing the guy. "Woooohhoo!" He laughed, "Find some more!"

Jackson found himself smiling just a bit, before searching for others. He could hear Ivy and the others doing well against their own. The militia here seemed ill-prepared to deal with them. Maybe it'll be fine. Maybe he could-

Pain erupted in his left shoulder and the world spun for a brief moment before the harsh pain of reality hits him when he landed on the ground. Searing pain ate at his left side and he dragged himself up, his hands shaking a bit at the blood that seeped from his side.

At first, Jackson couldn't believe it. It was like it wouldn't connect in his mind that he had been shot. One of them had shot him. He could very well die doing this stupid job.

He could hear words being called from behind him. The trucks were long gone into the forests. It was then he knew with a certain cold fear that he'd been left behind. A casualty. Expendable.

They would not come back for him.

That knowledge alone was enough to make him want to wretch up whatever had been in his stomach. He'd never been truly alone before. There had always been someone there for him. Someone was always there.

Now...

He almost didn't register it when the surviving militia men came to him and began to prod, then beat him. Everywhere they had attacked. He curled up in a defensible ball, trying to figure out how to get out. He had to get out of this.

He could not die in this godforsaken place! Not alone!

Eyes widened in fear, perhaps even shock, Jackson could feel a faint buzzing along his arms. It itched in the back of his head and danced down the rest of his body. A high scent in the air that couldn't be explained but you knew not to be there. Energy crackled around him and the men that had been beating him gasped and backed away, but it was too late. Electricity danced around Jackson's body, lashing out at the men. Electrocuting them where they stood. Their bodies jerked and danced with the untamed energy until the scent of burnt meat filled the air and their bodies fell onto the forest floor.

Once the danger seemed to be gone, the buzzing stopped.

He was alone once more.

Jackson doesn't know how long he was there in the jungle for. He rose and stood, looking down at the very dead men. The men that had tried to kill him just moments before. It's then that it dawned on him that he killed these men.

He'd just committed murder.

It was self-defense, of course, but still he had killed someone else. A person. People.

He nearly didn't hear the stomping of feet coming his way. "Shango!"

He turned his head ever so slowly, the edges of his vision began to swim. Icicle Jr. came crashing through the undergrowth with little to no care for what was around him. He'd ran through there towards him, only slowing to catch his breath for a minute.

"I'm- I'm so glad you're ok, man." Icicle jr. panted then gulped down some air to give him a good look over. "Holy shit! You did that? Wow!" His smile instantly wilted, and he reached out to him, " He-hey, are you ok?"

"I'm..." Jackson's vision darkened just as he reached out to him and fell over. At least, he thinks he did. He could barely hold onto his consciousness. He just heard Icicle jr.'s panicking voice and the sensation of being moved.

Then, he was no more.

Jackson woke. Confused, he tried to sit up, but a pair of hands pushed him back down. He realized then he was still wearing his mask. The facility looked odd and he wasn't certain just what had happened.

"Hey man."

He looked up and saw him there.

"Cameron?" He croaked out then looked down at his arms. Something was there that hadn't been there before. Black swirling lines that encased both his arms. Where the hell did that come from? He didn't know and didn't have the energy to do much more. "What...What happened?"

"We were attacked." Icicle jr. replied, "You got hit, man, and fell off the truck. I dunno what happened, but when I found you, you'd finished off the rest of the militia."

"I...did?" So it was real. He had killed someone. A lot of someones.

Icicle jr. rubbed the back of his neck, looking off a little but he gave his usual loop-sided smile, "Yeah. Devastation's not exactly impressed but I supposed it's impressed for a normal dude kind of standard, you know?"

"Yeah." That meant he passed whatever mental test she had going on in her head. Wonderful. His Dad'll be proud.

Somehow, that thought felt and almost tasted bitter. He'd never wanted to kill anyone, but now he had. He's not sure how he'll live with that.

"Come on, it's about time to go." Icicle jr. moved to help him with his suit, "Don't want to be here too long. The Brain's some wacked out scientist that likes experimenting on things- people- if you stick around too long."

Jackson moved slowly to get up, he sensed there was something there, but his mind didn't want to dwell on it yet.

"Alright. Lets get out of here."

His Dad was proud.

So proud, in fact, that he even called Kaldur and Kareem to tell them about what'd happened on his mission. he wanted him to talk to them- wanted to talk to him about his first kill and how it'd open up a new way to fight rather than just disarming.

Jackson didn't want to. He just mutely took everything in. Smiled at appropriate things, but when all was said and done- he threw up in the toilet and then silently cried himself to sleep. This went on for a few days. He was even excused from school- he heard his Dad tell the school that he had the flu and had to stay home.

That was fine for him. He had no desire to be around them. Be around anyone while he pulled together the mess that was in his head. Trying to figure out what part of him could be missing because of that. Was he going to be broken? Was he already broken? Was Kaldur? Was their Dad broken too?

He spent the next two days trying to figure that out until his Dad forced him to bathe, change his bandages and get outside.

"If you're not going to school, than go take a walk." He'd order him, "No son of mine is going to mope around the house all day without doing something."

Reluctantly, he went outside. Shades on, hat pulled down low. Clothes big enough to swallow his lanky frame that had shot up another inch over the past month. Even without that, he felt like everything hurt. Every movement sent a wave of protest against it in his arms and legs. He felt infinitely tired and just unable to do much of anything.

It's probably why Cameron found him and coaxed him to go over to Star City for a little while to hang out at his place. Well, it's really an old rancher that still had that 'oh so fashionable' 60s' wood paneling on the walls.

"It's dirt cheap." Cameron was saying showing him in, "Since Dad's not around much-or..um... at all, really- I have the whole house to myself. It's all paid for." He plopped down on a couch that's seen better days.

Jackson was surprised by one thing about the house. It was clean. Sure everything looked worn out and could use a little help, but otherwise it looked good. He found his curiosity aroused a little by this.

"It's so...clean." He voiced his thoughts, "I didn't think anyone our age would even care to do that."

Cameron didn't say anything but flipped the channels on his tv. "Yeah, well, when Dad does come around, he likes it clean. Don't want people snooping around 'cause it's not clean and junk. The ass."

His brows rose but he said nothing else. Instead he moved and sat on the couch with him, stretching out carefully as to not aggravate his wound. "Don't like your dad much, do you?"

"Nope. He's scum."

"Yet, you're still trying to prove something?"

Cameron shrugged, "He pays the bills here."

"M'kay." He lapsed into silence.

A silence that grew so comfortable, Jackson fell asleep. It was the first peaceful sleep he'd had in the last few days or so. He slept so deeply, that he only woke up when Cameron had to shake him awake.

"Come on, it's night. Lets get you to bed."

"Bed?" Groggy, Jackson glanced around for a clock and saw it was ten pm." Oh gods, I gotta get home! Dad's going to kill me!"

"Whoa, hold on." Cameron held his hands up to stop him, "It's alright. Your dad called hours ago and I told him what's up. He says you could stay the night."

"Really?" That was...new. He hadn't slept over at anyone's place since...ever. He felt a bit awkward about it. "If- well I mean, if I'm not putting you out or anything."

"Man, please. There's nothing to it." Cameron gestured around, "My home is your home. Save for the master bedroom, pick whatever room you want." He paused and then laughed, "There's only one spare room left."

Jackson laughed too, just a bit. He couldn't do it too much or he'd pull his stitches. "Ok, ok, lets make a night of it. I got my second wind."

"Alright, movie marathons?"

"Movie marathons." Jackson grinned at him, "Do your worse."

"You're on!"

It's not until later on, when he goes to bed at four am that he realized he doesn't have either hat or sunglasses on. When he drifts to sleep deeply, he finds he doesn't care.

AN: And that's all that's up as of now. There's more in the works. I'll bump the rating up if only because swearing and some stuff.